Unease ripples through me. Because even though we’ve just spent an amazing week together, that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Before all that, I spent a lot of time fantasizing about Michael. I’ve written an entire romance novel about it, for Christ’s sake. Is it possible I’ve missed something everyone else seemed to know? Was I so desperate for my own Prince Charming, I didn’t want to see what was right there?
I look at Michael and feel a stab behind my breastbone. Because… my heart. My heart is protesting. My heart is telling me that’s all wrong—he wouldn’t do that, he’s not that guy. Not my Michael.
He turns to see me scrutinizing him. When he reaches for my hand, I give an involuntary flinch and he frowns.
“You okay?”
“I…” I gnaw on my bottom lip, wanting to ask him but not even sure where to begin.
“Alex, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I mumble, glancing away. I can’t ask him about this now. He’s worried about Henry and this is not the time. This isn’t about me.
“Hey.” He leans closer to tuck my hair behind my ear. “Something’s wrong and I want you to tell me. Please.”
When I lift my gaze to his concerned face, my heart protests again, louder. Maybe I should just ask him. He’s got enough to worry about right now without me sulking. That’s not fair, either.
And if I don’t say something, this is going to eat me up.
I set our coffees aside and stand, glancing down the corridor. Finding an empty room, I pull Michael in and close the door. My hands are trembling as I think about what I’m going to ask him. Because this isn’t really about Mel or whatever happened in their past—it’s about the fact that maybe I don’t know him as well as I thought I did. That maybe I’ve imagined him to be someone he’s not.
“Michael…” I shift my weight. “I didn’t know that Mel was your ex-wife. I don’t know how I didn’t figure it out, but I didn’t.”
Even though the room is dark, lit only by the light from the tiny corridor window, I can see the apprehension etched on his face as I speak.
“And she told me, a while back…” I swallow. Fuck, how do I say this? “She told me something and I want to know if it’s true.”
“Okay.” He scratches his head. “What was it?”
“She told me…” I draw an uneven breath. “She told me that you cheated on her and broke up your family.”
He’s quiet. I wait for him to look ashamed, but he doesn’t. “Melanie told you I cheated on her?”
I nod.
A muscle ticks in his neck as he clenches his jaw. “What did she say, exactly?”
“She said she caught you in bed with someone else and that you said she wasn’t enough for you.”
His eyes widen incredulously. “Fucking hell.” He slumps down into a chair, pressing his fingertips to his temples. “I cannot believe this.”
I lower myself into the chair beside him.
“Did she tell you that so you’d stay away from me?”
“I don’t think so. She told me before she even knew that I knew you.”
He wipes a hand down his face. “Well, that explains why Cat hates me,” he mutters. “Shit, this is so typical of Melanie. I should have known she’d pull a stunt like this.”
His words ignite a spark of hope in me. “So it’s not true?”
“No,” he says, his hands curling into fists in his lap. “She cheated. I found texts on her phone. She was having an affair with some guy from her office.”
Relief shudders through me. I exhale slowly, trying to make sense of this. “But… why would she lie?”
He gives a harsh laugh. “Because she wants the attention and the sympathy. Because she’s too proud to admit she fucked up our whole marriage. Because she’s angry with me.”
If I think of the way she just spoke to him, “angry” is an understatement. I’ve never seen someone so enraged, as if Michael had been deliberately trying to poison his own son.
“Why is she angry with you?”
“Because I refused to stay with her.”
“You couldn’t trust her?”
“Yeah, that, and it brought out a nasty side to her. I saw who she really was. I didn’t want to break up our family, believe me, but I also didn’t want to stay with her just for Henry’s sake when I didn’t love her, or even respect her, anymore. That’s why she’s been trying to take Henry away from me. She’s angry and bitter.”
I run my eyes over Michael’s anguished face. This is what she does to him: she breaks him down. There’s an ache in my chest and I reach for his hand, squeezing it. “Why didn’t you tell me what happened with her?”
He gives a despondent shrug. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t feel right bad-mouthing her.”
“What?” I marvel at his kindness. “It seems to me like she deserves it. Besides, it’s not bad-mouthing if it’s true.”
He nods sadly, staring at the floor. The hurt in his eyes makes my throat close with sorrow. How could someone be so cruel to this man? And how could I have been so stupid to even consider it could be true?
“Michael.” I’m trying to keep the emotion out of my voice, but he hears it and looks at me in surprise.
“Hey,” he murmurs, slipping out of his chair and onto his knees on the floor in front of me. It reminds me of the first time we made love and I reach for him, pulling him close, blinking against tears.
“I’m never going to let you feel like that again,” I murmur into his neck, and his arms tighten around me. “You deserve so much better.” I smooth my hands over his back, kissing his cheek, holding him tight. I
